


The minister’s cat (is a prolix cat)

by Elenchus



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 06:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenchus/pseuds/Elenchus
Summary: Wherein there is drinking, attempted wordplay, and not a single cat.(For the prompt drunk/sloppy kiss)





	The minister’s cat (is a prolix cat)

“The minister’s cat is a - a- bugger it.”

“Denied,” pronounced Bossuet in the stentorian tones of a judge. “Doesn’t begin with a Q.”

“The minister’s cat is a…quick cat. Queer. Quixotic.”

Laigle looked distinctly unimpressed. Grantaire threw a napkin at him.

“The problem,” said Grantaire, leaning forward to point an accusatory finger at Laigle, “the problem, as I see it - clear minded sort that I am - the problem is that you haven’t drunk enough. Here-“ he leaned even further forward to pour a large amount of wine into Laigle’s glass and a larger amount onto the table, “ _quaff_.”

Laigle laughed and downed the whole thing. He stood up to properly declaim, dropping the errant napkin onto Grantaire’s face. “The minister’s cat can’t keep quiet in quiescent quarters - he’s quintessentially a querulous quidnunc.”

Grantaire blew the napkin off his face and said something very rude about the minister’s cat, not observing any of the alphabetic rules. Laigle refilled both their glasses, leaning charmingly against Grantaire’s side of the table all the while. Tragically, no one took care to observe the excellence of his form.

“The minister’s cat is…red. No, wait, damn you-” Grantaire hastily interjected as Laigle opened his mouth to respond, “-he’s a roguish rapscallion, a rapid rascal, a ranting…reader, a reckless radical and a…rotten…radish…there, that’s all the R words, I’ve said them all, now you’ve nothing to use.”

“The minister’s cat is a renegade retailer of recondite rodents,” said Laigle.

“Unfair,” said Grantaire, “deeply unfair. When I invited you to come drink with me - in good faith, and as a loving comrade in arms - it wasn’t so you could…have you ingested a sponge? Is that how you’ve cheated Intoxication out of your few remaining wits?”

“The minister’s cat,” Laigle began again. Grantaire huffed and pulled sharply on Laigle’s coat, dragging him down close enough that Grantaire could kiss him soundly.

“There,” said Grantaire after the kiss broke, “tell me that didn’t shake a few adjectives out of you.”

Laigle smiled wickedly. “The minister’s cat,” he whispered in Grantaire’s ear, “perhaps possesses a paucity of pulchritude, but he’s pleasingly pliant when-“

“Pervert,” growled Grantaire, drawing Laigle into another kiss to shut him up.

**Author's Note:**

> This is short enough that I wouldn't normally post it here, but I don't want my careful cat-themed alliterations to disappear forever when tumblr inevitably implodes on itself.


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